


Recovery

by hanzopanzo (floralstiel)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Paternal Reyes, Platonic Relationship, Prosthesis, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralstiel/pseuds/hanzopanzo
Summary: Modern prostheses were works of art. But Jesse had no money, and Blackwatch could only cover so much of the cost. Mercy tactfully explained this to him as he sat in bed, wrapped up like a mummy unable to hyperventilate like his body was pushing him to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Stupidly short drabble about the "mystery tubes" on Jesse's chest and armor. My take on what they could be.

"Tell me," Reyes spoke, watching through the observation glass. Little Fareeha was hanging on Jesse's every rasped word, straining forward in her seat to hear him over the sounds of the machinery, the soft whirs and clicks compounding Jesse's wheezing breaths. Damn brat shouldn't even be talking.

"Multiple contusions, obviously a shoddily amputated arm, he's mildly concussed which is making treatment difficult," Dr. Ziegler sighed and looked down at her holopad, "numerous lacerations and burns on his chest and neck..."

"What else?" Reyes asked, clenching his fists when Jesse had to stop to breathe raggedly through a seizing fit.

"...the emergency prostheses are doing most of the work for him. I can't save his lungs. Once most of the damage is treated we can consider more permanent solutions."

Fareeha was gone when Reyes looked back in the room. Jesse was staring at the ceiling. Reyes tried not to dwell on the tears on his cheeks.

 

Modern prostheses were works of art. But Jesse had no money, and Blackwatch could only cover so much of the cost. Mercy tactfully explained this to him as he sat in bed, wrapped up like a mummy unable to hyperventilate like his body was pushing him to. The machine he was hooked up to whirred and hissed in time with his laborious breaths and he stared at it. Mercy kept talking, he kept staring.

"-Morrison will cover the cost."

"What's that?" Jesse asked, snapping back to attention. Mercy smiled softly.

"We at Overwatch are all too aware of your situation. Far be it from your parent organization to ignore your needs. That is why Commander Morrison has signed off on the expenses. You're getting a new pair of lungs."

Jesse swallowed. _Listen to what they're_ not _saying_ , Reyes's phantom voice whispered in his head. _Take the deal and they own you._

"Ok," Jesse rasped. "Ok."

 

He was out of the IC ward in a matter of weeks. Now that the more pressing parts of his lungs prostheses were taken care of his treatment was pushed down in level of urgency. He'd have to wait a lot longer for a new arm. Living with just one was difficult, and he still wasn't used to his new lungs. He itched for a cigarillo but Mercy, not unkindly, threatened him with discharge if she so much as smelled smoke on his clothes.

No ops until he was whole. No ops until his lungs were complete, until he had a new arm. He was dying for some proper action, and he took care to regulate his breathing when he felt the new parts strain. It was never a conscious thing for him before, breathing, and it was proving to be a challenge.

“How are you feeling?” Reyes asked, sitting across from him in the mess hall.

“Well enough, I suppose,” Jesse mumbled, pushing his grits around on his plate—synthesizers on base could never make them quite right, he missed the proper taste from back home—and Reyes nodded. “Well enough for a fella with tubes stickin’ every which way outta his chest.”

“You’re not the only one with prostheses, McCree, buck up,” Reyes groused, crossing his arms. “They look like part of your armor anyway. Can’t tell the difference.”

“You think so?” Jesse asked, brightening.

“Yeah, kid,” Reyes laughed. “Your arm, on the other hand…I saw the designs you sent to the manufacturer. You gotta be kidding me.”

“What?” Jesse grinned, “gotta hold onto some part of my sordid, crime-filled past, don’t I? What’s better than a skull?”

Reyes shook his head and chuckled softly. Jesse smiled and turned back to his food. His chest didn’t feel so heavy after that.

 

 


End file.
